


Ghost of Balance

by Clawsout83 (jenna1931)



Series: In Your Dreams [1]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Bad English, Escape, F/M, Gen, Kidnapping, Mention of torture, No Ending Planned, One Shot, mostly psychological torture, no beta reading
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-10-25
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:07:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27186325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenna1931/pseuds/Clawsout83
Summary: Adrien is running, running, running, as fast and as far away as possible. He knows his abductors are on his tail, but he has to find a safe place to hide. Fortunately, Marinette lives in the neighborhood...
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Series: In Your Dreams [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1984516
Comments: 2
Kudos: 43





	Ghost of Balance

**Author's Note:**

> This one-shot is based on a dream I made. The memories of this dream were so vivid that I was sure, when I woke up in the morning, it actually was a memory of a fic I'd read. Even the title, "Ghost of Balance", was part of the dream. The title is irrelevant, at least yet, but I preferred to keep it.  
> Not beta read (English isn't my native language), no intention to continue _unless_ inspiration strikes, and for now, it ends as it ends.  
> If not tagged properly, please notify me and I'll gladly right my wrongs.

_ Run! _ __  
_ Run!! _ _  
_ __ Run!!!

This was all he could think about.

He had this awesome idea to ditch his bodyguard so he could have some free time, but apparently, these guys knew where to look for him. 

They thought they were out of earshot, but since he got his Miraculous, his hearing had slightly improved. He heard they had received payment for the job, and were waiting for their client to answer their call for the final one. In the meantime, they were to keep their hostage unharmed… well,  _ visibly _ unharmed. They had denied him sleep and food, and gave him water just enough so he wouldn’t die from thirst. They had frequently moved from a location to another to make it harder to find them, and some of these locations also had rooms too hot or too cold to be comfortable. Of course, these were the places they had let him to rot. 

They usually kept him gagged, his upper arms tied at each sides of his chest and handcuffed on his back. They only changed his hands from back to front when he had to use the toilet. This had been one of these times, but they forgot to inspect the bathroom before allowing him access. Granted, they were on the second floor and the window was small, but like the cat he was, if the head could pass, so could the rest of the body. There were garbage bags at the bottom, cushioning his fall. He stood up, his legs shaking hard, but adrenaline was a good ally and he ran as fast as he could. 

And there he was, running for dear life, but his head started to spin and he ducked into an alley, slumping beside a dumpster. He shuffled to remove the gag, then gasped for air. Plagg escaped from his hiding place, looking around. “You need to move” he reminded him, but Adrien barely registered, panting severely. His lungs were burning and his head was pounding. Plagg flew away for a moment, then came back to him, pulling a used fabric tarpaulin. “You need to hide” advised the kwami. “You’ll attract more attention if you expose yourself, and these men could find you more easily. They’ll probably go look for you in a hospital or a police station. Is there someone around here you can trust?”

Adrien rolled himself in the tarp, using a broken shoelace to keep it in place over his head like a cape, then looked around and nodded. There was someone. He took a deep breath and resumed running.

Doing parkour with tied hands wasn’t easy feat, but he managed to weave enough for them to lose his tracks. He finally entered the block where his friend was living and headed to her door. “Marinette!” he whispered-screamed while knocking with his joined hands. “Marinette! Please! Open the door!” 

He heard footsteps coming forward, and just hearing this made his adrenaline rush die. He leaned his forehead on the door and barely moved when Marinette opened to him. He fell on her like a giant ragdoll, surprising his friend who squealed at the limp body. What was going on!? Who was this? She pushed him to the side, rolling off of her, and she removed the hood the tarp was forming from over his face. “A-Adrien!?” she called, shocked. He crack-opened his eyes, just enough to register he was now in good hands, and passed out.

Marinette removed the tarpaulin from him, noting his bindings. She gasped, then grumbled. Whoever did this was going to pay greatly. She got up and lifted him as she could to bring him to the couch. She was undoing the ties around his chest when his eyes snapped open, pupils so contracted that they almost disappeared in his green irises. He rose up like he had received an electric shock and scrambled as far as possible from Marinette. She could see he was terrified, but also very weak and could barely stand. “Let me go” he mumbled in a growl like a feral animal. “Let me go, let me go, let me go, let me-”

Marinette approached him calmly, showing him her empty hands and shushing softly. “It’s alright, Adrien” she whispered. “You’re safe now.”

He looked at her, eyes filling up with tears. He slowly closed the distance between them. “Marinette… No, they got you too?” He asked, still delirious. He extended his cuffed hands to her. “Don’t worry, I’m with you…” he said softly, his voice cracking. “We’ll find a way to escape, I promise.” 

Marinette nodded and gently took his head in her hands. There was nothing more to do. He was in deep delirium and she could only play along. He took one of her arms in his hands, closed his eyes with a small smile and dropped to the floor. In his panic, he had got them closer to the bedroom, so Marinette lifted him again and brought him to her bed instead. She removed his shoes and went to her atelier to grab something to lockpick his handcuffs.

He took an entire day to open his eyes again. Looking around, he noticed he was comfortable in a bed and freed, the bedroom door just ajar. “Hello?” He called weakly. He tried to rise up, but had just the strength to lift his head before it dropped back on the pillow. He couldn’t remember much of what happened, but he could see he had escaped. Where was he?

He heard someone coming to the room, and sighed in relief when he recognised the petite figure showing up in the doorframe. “Good morning, sleepy head!” She welcomed him with a smile. He felt tears of relief welling up in his eyes. Everything would be fine. “How do you feel?” She asked, gently brushing his hair away from his face.

“Better already” he said in a whisper. He could barely talk or move, but he didn’t care anymore. “How long…”

“You’ve been asleep for a little more than twenty-four hours” she answered, putting on the side table a few bottles of water and a bowl of something he identified as a chicken soup. When he shook his head, she rethinked of her answer. “You’ve disappeared two weeks ago” she said with a frown.  _ Two weeks!? _ No wonder he was so weak and out of his mind!

_ Wait… _ “Two weeks? Why would their client wait so long to pay for my kidnapping?” He asked to himself, not really waiting for an answer. Marinette wasn’t aware of what he had heard.

She shrugged, then shuttered at her idea. “Maybe they wanted you to…” She couldn’t finish her sentence, but Adrien completed it in his head and he shook at the idea.  _ They  _ **_wanted_ ** _ him to suffer… _


End file.
